At the Elks Club Dance
~ by Larry Thoren ~

trying to be a hard young boy -
looking hard at the girls
and hoping they'd be impressed.

I'd wait most of the night,
sometimes all night
for those guts to arrive
that I needed to get past hard looks
and slanky tough guy standing around
to walk up slow
like I didn't care
and ask one of those girls to dance.

Lots of nights went by
without me doing anything at all
except maybe hang out in strategic places
inside
or out in the parking lot.
Out in the parking lot
I practiced flipping cigarette butts
just right.

Maybe some nights
one of my buddies
would have a pint of whiskey
bought over on Sam Rankin street -
some whiskey to mix with the cokes
in red wax cups
bought for a quarter
at the concession.

Just a couple of those
and I could be what I practiced
in front of the bathroom mirror.

I could talk to them then.
I could walk right up to one of them.
I could ask her to dance and she'd say yes.
I could do that
with just two or three of those quarter cokes
with cheap whiskey thrown in.

I never picked the hot ones though.
The hot ones went with the older guys -
guys out of high school,
guys in college,
guys with jobs maybe -
for damn sure
guys with thier own cars.

No
I picked the ugly duckling girls -
girls that
just like me,
felt they had to be there
but didn't know why.

I picked the girls that were
a little too chubby or skinny
or hadn't grown into their feet or ears yet -
the girls who pleaded with their mamas
to let them go to the Elks Club dance
but were scared to death once they got there.

I picked the girls who were
dropped off in threes and fours
by some mama who said
be out front at eleven sharp -
the girls who crowded the bathroom
to slap makeup on
then stood on the other side
and smoked cigarettes too
and looked nervous and lonely.

Once I got braced up
and got one all the way
to the parking lot.

We got through the holding sweaty hands part
in fair shape,
even got to the kissing part -
but we forgot to lick our lips
so it came out all dry.

We backed off and lathered up
and tried again
but that kiss was awful slimy
and I started thinking
hell with it.

But mostly I just tried to be
a hard young boy
there on Water street
at the Elks Club dance.

Mostly I just chain smoked
and stood in the half dark
looking through the haze
to the other side of the dance floor.

Mostly I just stood there
looking hard at the girls.

Seemed like
it was the hardness
that mattered.

©1991 Liberated Press/ Larry Thoren/ RedBird Café. All rights reserved.
Unauthorized reproduction prohibited by all applicable laws.

photo of Larry by Pat Littledog

You can read more of Larry's poetry by going back now to the

Index of former Poems of the Week

...or you can hear him read in Austin on March 31 (Tues.) at New World Deli at 7pm, with
revered mentor, Albert Huffstickler!